The Frenzy Way (37 page)

“You have your religion; I have mine.”

With powerful speed, the skinwalker charged across the rooftop. It leapt over the brick divider and landed on the adjoining roof, then arched its back and howled in agony as steel jaws snapped shut above his rear right paw. The skinwalker pitched forward, then caught itself and reared up again. Traps surrounded it like the mouths of baying enemies.

Stalk withdrew a silver-tipped steel arrow from the quiver on his back, then strung it and pulled it back. He had positioned the dozen antique, double-spring wolf traps and then painted them silver to blend in with the roof’s reflective surface.
Urban camouflage.

The skinwalker reached down with both claws and pried the trap open. The bloody metal teeth left deep gouges in its lower leg, through which Stalk glimpsed damaged bone. Behind the creature, he saw Angela creep around the stairway structure on the next roof.

Concentrate! Put her out of your mind.

The skinwalker stared at him, its dark eyes filled with loathing. Stalk released the arrow, which rocketed through the air. The Wolf chopped the arrow with one claw, redirecting it to the roof, where it triggered another trap.

Remaining calm, Stalk drew another arrow and aimed it at the skinwalker, which limped between traps. Ignoring Angela’s frightened expression, he centered the arrow on the creature’s torso. The arrow soared through the air, but the Wolf managed to deflect it with a claw swipe. Stalk drew his third arrow with greater speed. This time the skinwalker swiped at the arrow a second too late, and the shaft drove into his left shoulder, the silver tip emerging from the other side. The monster snarled in anger more than pain, Stalk thought as he drew a fourth arrow.

Rather than attempt to yank the arrow from its shoulder, the skinwalker jumped forward, clearing the traps. It landed on his right foreclaw and left rear claw, compensating for its injuries. With sweat stinging his eyes, Stalk released the fourth arrow into the roof a foot ahead of the beast. For an instant, man and Wolf stared at each other. Then the skinwalker charged, galloping on three paws and dragging his right leg behind him.

With no time to string another arrow, Stalk dropped the bow at his feet and unsheathed a hunting knife with his right hand. The silver blade gleamed in the light, and Angela screamed as the muscular creature leapt into the air. Stalk took the full impact of the skinwalker’s weight in his chest and drove his knife into the creature’s side even as he staggered backward.

The creature sank its fangs into Stalk’s collarbone, and Stalk felt his buttocks strike cement an instant before he toppled over the retainer with the monster on top of him. Feeling his stomach lurch, he flailed his left arm as they plummeted off the rooftop.

Mace noted the beefed-up police presence as he drove through the Village: foot patrols, K-9 cops, and squad cars crisscrossed the downtown area. As he drove down St. Mark’s Place, he thought Stalk had furnished Gibbons with Synful Reading’s business address rather than Angela Domini’s home address. When he parked before the shop, he realized this was not the case. The shop and her basement apartment shared an address. Getting out, he felt electricity in the air. The rain would come soon for sure, probably in torrents. He descended the narrow concrete steps to the door at the bottom and pressed the doorbell. When no one answered, he knocked on the door. Then he heard a long, inhuman wailing coming from nearby.

The howling of a wolf.

What the hell?

He turned with disbelieving eyes to the stairs, the hair on his neck standing on end. Whatever made that sound was in pain. For a moment, he stood rooted to the spot. Then he sprang into action, taking the steps two at a time. As soon as he reached the top, he saw that the nearby pedestrians had heard the sound as well, for they stood gazingup at the building tops, scanning them for activity.

An animal roar filled the sky, and two figures fell from the roof of the building across the street, only one of them human. Mace heard gasps all around him.

With his left arm wrapped around the skinwalker’s neck and his right hand still gripping the handle of the silver blade he had driven into the creature’s side, Stalk felt grateful that he had pulled the monster over the edge with him. He prayed to the spirit
Wakan Tanka
that the
limikken
would not survive the fall. Then he heard Angela screaming, and his back absorbed an unexpected impact.

Mace recognized Stalk as the man crashed onto the building’s old black fire escape. What his mind refused to accept was the existence of the creature that landed on top of the tribal policeman. The thing was larger than a man and covered with black fur, humanoid in configuration but canine
—lupine
—beyond that. The beast’s head jerked up, its teeth tearing Stalk’s army jacket and flesh, producing a geyser of blood. It snapped its jaws in the air, devouring whatever meat it had torn from Stalk’s torso.

Stalk screamed, and Angela appeared at the rooftop’s edge, eyes wide with fear and her right hand reaching down toward Stalk. The monster swiped at Stalk’s torso with its right claw, then drove its open jaws into his belly.

All around Mace, people screamed.

Stalk felt his collarbone snap, then saw the skinwalker raise its head, his own pink muscle tissue stretching from his wound to the beast’s powerful jaws. The agony that shot through his body forced him to release the knife and clamp his hand over the gory mess between his neck and left shoulder. Why had
Wakan Tanka
spared him from certain death only to deliver him to a far worse fate? Screaming, he saw Angela appear above him with tears in her eyes. He wanted to yell at her to run away, to get as far from her fellow Wolf as possible, but the creature sitting on top of him spread his legs wide apart, taking its weight off his chest, and drove its gaping jaws inside Stalk’s stomach. His entire midsection burned with pain as the skinwalker’s teeth pierced his flesh. Then the monster jerked its head to one side, splattering the brick wall behind it with Stalk’s flesh.

Stalk felt hot liquid gush onto his left hand and knew it was his own blood. Then the Berserker stared down at him, its bloody lips peeled back to reveal red slicked teeth jutting out, and Stalk saw his terrified reflection in the creature’s dark eyes. The skinwalker raised its left claw high in the air, then used it to rake his torso. Stalk felt his flesh open along with the fabric of his jacket and shirt, and blood fountained out. The Berserker drove its snout inside his belly, and he felt razor-sharp teeth feasting on his insides.

Angela leapt on top of the ledge and crouched there, ready to pounce despite the crowd of spectators in the street below. Making eye contact with her, Stalk shook his head, his face turning red. She hesitated, and in that instant the Berserker burrowed into Stalk’s belly headfirst. Arching his own back, Stalk seized the end of the arrow sticking out of the Berserker’s left shoulder and jerked it back and forth, inflicting additional pain on the beast.

The Berserker forced his entire face inside Stalk’s belly, twisting it from side to side as he feasted on the helpless man’s insides.

A figure ran into the street below, the flaps of his raincoat billowing, and aimed a handgun in their direction. Angela recognized Mace.

Blood rained down from the fire escape. Charging into the street, Mace drew his Glock from its holster, and the civilians cleared out of his way.

“Police!” Planting his feet as if he were standing over home plate on a baseball diamond, he raised his weapon in both hands and trained it on the figures struggling above. Then he saw that Angela had climbed on top of the roof’s edge, where she crouched like a panther ready to spring on her prey.

I might hit her
, he thought, hesitating. He moved sideways, hoping to remove her from his line of fire.
A round could still ricochet off the fire escape
…

“Shoot!” somebody said behind him.

Above, Stalk’s body quivered and stilled. The thing freed its blood-covered head from his belly, dragging out his entrails.

What in God’s name is that?